


Dear Par Vollen

by ladygekko



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Ben-Hassrath, Demands of the Qun, Dragons, Elfroot, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hissrad, Humor, Humour, Letters, Qun, Qunari, Qunari Culture and Customs, Qunlat, Spying, gatt - Freeform, reports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:06:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25464442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladygekko/pseuds/ladygekko
Summary: Hissrad, known to thebasas The Iron Bull, sends reports home. Asalaad reads them all, trying to make sense of the flood of information he sends along. She shouldn't be this excited over the her new, pristine shelving systems... but what's with all the elfroot? Why is the Herald dressing everyone in plaidweave? Why won't he kill nugs?--Hissrad's reports if the Herald was a regular player - and the confusion of one particular Ben-Hassrath agent.
Comments: 17
Kudos: 137





	Dear Par Vollen

**Author's Note:**

> _Asalaa_ is helmet. _Asalaad_ is the one who protects the head, receiving info from agents and interpreting it.
> 
> Items in _**bolded italics**_ are reports from The Iron Bull.

Asalaad was quietly pleased with her new assignment. She now had a brand new, shiny cupboard to store all of the reports the assigned Hissrad would send, as well as a devoted express outbox to forward important information and interpretations. Anything she deposited there would be forwarded to the Triumvirate as soon as was possible. She was proud to be in such an important position, and was looking forward to the first reports from Hissrad; she had heard only good things about the agent.

\--

**_Have joined Inq. HoA excited to work with me. Has interest in learning about the Qun. Interest purely intellectual. Do not recommend converting. Will be staying in SC to complete tasks before heading to Hav. -H_ **

\--

**_HoA has recruited a cult and is closing rifts in SC. Camps established. HoA refuses to kill any nugs. HoA picked 34 stalks of elfroot.-H_ **

\--

**_Arrived in Hav. Have been collecting info. Chantry sisters are a good source of info. HoA is getting to know the major players. Often disappointed when the same questions result in the same answers. HoA killed a drufallo. Ran away from three. Heading to FM next. -H_ **

\--

Consulting her map, Asalaad figured FM was the Fallow Mire, which last they had heard had been mostly decimated by a fast acting plague and was now reportedly overtaken by undead. What could possibly be leading the Herald there? Demons and the undead… The south was a barbaric place. She shook her head, happy she was safe here with her paperwork and not out there. Most of Hissrad’s reports were short, but there were enough to make up for their length.

\--

**_FM full of undead. Avaar tribes took Inq. soldiers hostage. HoA wants to save them. Defeated two undead outside of base camp. HoA turned around and declared we were headed back to the HL. -H_ **

\--

**_HL full of bandits. HoA helping people with no titles and no consequences. HOA picked 28 elfroot. -H_ **

\--

**_Saved: 1 druffalo, 1 ram. Killed: 26 druffalos, 76 rams, 22 wolves and 238 bears. -H_ **

\--

It had to be a code. She had already shown it to a few of her compatriots. Horns bumping over a problem always made it make more sense. Usually it worked. Everyone in the office was stumped.

“Is there a previous report that would have included the key to decoding this one?” one of them asked. “My spies often include that sort of forethought with their reports.”

Asalaad growled at him. “Of course I thought of that. Unless one of the reports was intercepted, there was nothing. Perhaps ‘bears’ is code for bandits, though I cannot easily see how hundreds of bandits would descend without anyone hearing of their gathering.”

“It is strange…”

“Very strange.”

\--

**_Red lyrium located in HL. Handled. Watchtowers built. Rifts closed. Killed: 16 wolves. Returned to Hav. HoA attempted to seduce Com.CR. Tripped over own feet, toppled a training dummy. Did not succeed in seduction. -H_ **

\--

**_Returned to FM. Undead handled. Inq soldiers saved. RJS put lizards in AS’s bedroll. HoA giggled. Returning to Hav. to decide if Inq will approach Temp or RMages. Both options currently considered. HoA seems unsure which to choose. -H_ **

\--

**_Went with RMages. Nothing strange happened during mage handover. Nothing strange at all. Tev Mag Alexius now in custody of Inq. Tev Alt Pavus new member of Inq. Altus DP is very attractive. One to watch closely. 39 elfroot. -H_ **

\--

Asalaad looked over what used to be her pristine new shelf. There were now so many labels on the shelves that she’d had to forgo her system to make room for new developments and new people the Herald was surrounding themselves with.

The addition of another companion meant she’d have to restart her labelling. She couldn’t have this Altus by himself in his own column when the others were in the previous one. She wanted to keep the information on the Red Jennies close to the elf’s, but then the Warden mystery next to Blackwall’s cubby kept getting too stuffed with miscellaneous reports of constant disappearances and...

Perhaps she should requisition a completely new shelving system, one with a few more shelves. She might also want to start to colour-code the shelves. Pink for anyone the Herald had expressed a romantic interest in, blue for anyone who had been helped by the Herald, purple for anyone who crossed both of those categories… Ask for the shelf first, color-coding later.

This was secretly her favourite part. When the missives were reduced to bits of information, she didn’t have to pay attention to any strangeness in the reports, or that elfroot thing…

\--

**_HoA and mages will attempt to close Breach in one week. -H_ **

\--

**_HoA and mages closing Breach tonight. Spirits are high. HoA is confident. -H_ **

\--

**_Hav. destroyed. HoA survived. Requesting all info about Tev. mag. Corypheus. New base found. AS seems to be involved in locating Skyhold. Located in Frostbacks. Not in Ferelden or Orlais. Has a tavern. -H_ **

\--

Asalaad looked at the stack of reports that had all come in at once. She’d been scared that Hissrad had perished when they had heard of the destruction of Haven. They hadn’t been able to confirm who had perished, and who had survived. She’d somewhat selfishly been upset for a few weeks, as the Ben’Hassrath above her decided whether or not to move her from the Inquisition business. She was also strangely glad that Hissrad had survived. Though his reports were stranger than some she had received and reviewed in the past, all of them allowed her to see a world outside of Par Vollen…

She grinned. Skyhold was going to need it’s own shelving unit, she just  _ knew _ it.

\--

**_HoA is collecting strange glowing ‘shards’. See sketch attached. They whisper, apparently. Cannot confirm whispering. Heading to FO to search for elven temple. AS thrilled but trying to remain stoic. -H_ **

\--

**_Detoured via CW. HoA insisted on ‘quick stop’. Spent 3 weeks fighting demons in constant rain. Rain seems to be caused by demons. Cleared out a bandit holdout. DP looked stunning destroying their archers. Keeping an eye on him. -H_ **

\--

**_Rifts closed. Too many demons. Rain stopped. 32 elfroot. -H_ **

**_p.s. DEFEATED DRAGON!! BLOOD POUNDING, THUNDER STRIKING, FEELING ALIVE!!_ **

\--

Great, now she needed a cubby for dragons. She had to admit, she had squealed in surprise when the latest report included half a dozen dragon scales sandwiched in the folds of the paper. She looked at them, glittering reddish-purple that still smelled of ozone to her sensitive nose. Only five of the scales had made it to the official evidence repository. One of them was in her breastband. A fee for having to relabel the last column again to make room for  _ dragons _ , of all things.

\--

**_HoA spent the last four days dyeing the armor of all companions. Insists plaidweave is ‘in’. Price of plaidweave expected to rise in Orlais, unfortunately. -H_ **

\--

**_Heading to EP. G and C called temp truce. Undead everywhere. Everywhere. Entire cities, forts and fortifications overrun with undead. DP very pleased. HoA less so. 32 elfroot. 82 spindleweed. Most of spindleweed given to Dalish. -H_ **

\--

**_Closed rifts. Located a piece of mural in a ramshackle fort. Fort was overrun with undead. HoA insisted on travelling back to Sky. to put mural in the main hall. Returned to EP immediately after task done. Full trip took 3 weeks. HoA promised another dragon. -H_ **

**_P.s. YOU SHOULD HAVE FUCKING SEEN IT, IT WAS GORGEOUS!!_ **

\--

More dragon scales skittered across her desk, these a deep purple and a slightly different shape to the previous ones. She slipped one in her wrist wraps, then bustled to sort the letter, her notes, and the scales. Some of the notes went into the outbox for the people keeping an eye on the civil war in Orlais. Some to the ones who kept a watch on widespread magic uses who liked to know about undead hordes. There were notes for the researchers who kept track of dragons, and more notes for the botanists. She hated the botanists.

“By your count…”

“I am only reporting what has been reported to me.” she’d said coldly.

“By the agent’s count…” the bitch had amended, “the Inquisitor has picked 1894 stalks of elfroot in the last six months.”

“Correct.”

“Impossible.”

Asalaad had stayed quiet. What could she say.

“Impossible!” the botanist had repeated, walking away.

“Nug-brained idiot…” she whispered under her breath, going back to her notes.

\--

**_Plaidweave is out. Imperial Vestment Cotton is in. Skyhold garden renovated. All available pots filled with elfroot. HoA ecstatic. Chantry not. -H_ **

\--

**_Nuggalopes have been procured. HoA has gifted one to each companion. Agent’s is a Knuckled Thunderer. She is called Snuggles and is a magnificent pink beast. Agent recommends obtaining and breeding these in Par Vollen if possible. -H_ **

**_P.s. DP has refused nuggalope. Decided to stick with Basking Longma dracolisk. Do not recommend breeding dracolisks._ **

\--

**_Evidence of red lyrium smuggling in EG. Freemen carryover from EP. HoA dealt with both. Rifts closed. Killed: 0 nugs, 5 great bears, 25 august rams, 67 giants. -H_ **

\--

“Well what am I supposed to do with all the plaidweave we have in warehouses Val Royeaux?!”

Asalaad was looking at the latest agent to encroach on her organised space. Mostly organised. The more reports she received, the more information she forwarded to different departments, the more irate visitors showed up in her sanctum.

She now had 6 different shelving units that wrapped around her large desk. One of the shelving units had replaced her outboxes, with different departments coming to pick up their pertinent information. She didn’t have time to send for runners herself, not when information from a single report could now affect so many departments. She now had an irate representative from the department who kept an eye on southern commerce in her space. She had tuned him out for a few minutes, reciting her favourite passages by Koslun in her head slowly.

“...and the plaidweave is just the beginning! Our contacts in both Denerim and Val Royeaux have said that the local armour and weapon markets have completely collapsed since the Inquisition has begun to pick up speed. It seems that they are flooding the market with gear of various quality. Where are they getting it all? They can’t possibly be making that much themselves, can they?”

“I am required somewhere else, at the moment. Goodbye.”

“Oh, I’ll walk you…”

“No.” She left her sanctuary, at a brisk pace, trying not to grumble.

\--

**_EG clues point to red lyrium mining in EmpL. Recommend pulling out all agents from EmpL immediately. Region unstable and dangerous. Weather affected - constant freezing temp. Most civilians killed. Nothing reclaimable. -H_ **

\--

**_HoA spent 2 weeks hunting valuable leather. Killed: 0 nugs, 6 august rams, 209 snoufleurs. 37 elfroot. -H_ **

\--

**_FUCK YEAH!!!! -H_ **

**_P.s. Keep and mine liberated from red templars, rifts closed, region stabilised._ **

\--

The scales dropped onto her desk, sounding like rain on a tiled roof. There were three distinct shapes, some darker blue, some a purplish grey, and some a bright orange that reminded Asalaad of a sunset.

She nudged one of each under a pile of paper with the end of her quill, tucking them away for later. The first scale had filled her with glee; the second, with guilt. She couldn’t put a name on the feelings brought up by the glittering scales on her desk, by their shimmering play of the light, by the way she could swear they almost glowed…

The closest she’d ever come to seeing a dragon was seeing hunters from her village skin an old varghest they’d managed to kill.

That someone, anyone, was bringing down full sized dragons, in her lifetime, was almost too amazing to bear.

She sighed and continued parsing out the reports, figuring out which departments to send what information.

\--

**_Inq invited to Winter Palace for peace talks. Planned trip to the Western Approach delayed. HoA not keen. Amb. JM very keen. HoA keen on JM, learning to dance. -H_ **

\--

**_Winter Palace was shit show. Rifts, demons, assassins. Political situation stabilised. HoA threatened all players. All players agreed to terms. Recommend keeping ears on all three. None are to be trusted. 0 elfroot. HoA disappointed.-H_ **

\--

**_HoA jumped from the top of the library tower again. Both legs broken. Expect delay of at least 3 weeks despite healers on hand at landing. -H_ **

\--

Asalaad had been called into the office of the Ariqun. She had never been so nervous in all her life. The Ariqun had two other agents with her, who were no doubt taking note of her breathing patterns and involuntary twitches. Asalaad had trained to mask these signs, but she had been behind a desk for a long time.

“Both agent Hissrad and the Inquisition have confirmed they have received our offer of alliance, yes?” the Ariqun asked, as if she didn’t know the answer already.

“Yes Ariqun.”

“When did we send the offer?”

“Seven months ago, Ariqun.”

“And they agreed to meet with us on the Storm Coast?”

“Yes Ariqun.”

“When?”

Asalaad paused. “The report we received from Hissrad said, and I quote, ‘when the herald gets round to it’, Ariqun.” They were not her words, it was not her fault. She had to remind herself of that as the Ariqun stewed in front of her.

“We have a ship, full of men, just waiting for this  _ bas _ prophet to show up. We have had to resupply their ship fifteen times! It has been seven months!”

Asalaad stayed still and quiet. The Ariqun hadn’t asked a question.

“You know their way of thinking better than anyone else here, Asalaad. What are your thoughts?”

All eyes were on her. “The  _ bas _ prophet is unpredictable. There is no way to know. His movements are confusing, his actions seem meaningless, but he is somehow still bringing stability across the continent. The elfroot alone... I don’t know, Ariqun.”

The Ariqun was handed a piece of paper by one of the agents beside her.

“Ah yes, the elfroot. Per Hissrad’s compiled reports you have calculated that the Herald has picked 6345 stalks of elfroot  _ themselves  _ in the last year.” She put down the paper and stared at Asalaad. “Such stockpiling is unheard of even in times of war. The healers I have spoken with cannot see a reason for such excessive collection, unless the  _ bas _ prophet is using over 200 health potions a month. Impossible. Unheard of!”

Still no questions.

“What is your conclusion, Asalaad?”

She had asked herself the same questions over and over in the past months, seeing the tally grow, redoing the math from the first reports she had gotten. She had asked other people to confirm her math as well. She had recommended that research be done in potential previously unknown uses for elfroot, even though it was one of the most common of all herbs. She had even had people enquire about the potential religious context of elfroot in the South. And still... “The bas prophet really likes elfroot, Ariqun.”

The Ariqun’s cold eyes focused on her for too long.

“You are dismissed.”

Asalaad bowed her head and left, forcing her body to walk away, not run.

\--

**_Travelled to HW. More sand than WA. HoA got bored after a week and returned to Sky. Obtained wyvern organs. Found lost Seekers. Fought a duel with an Antivan. Closed down lyrium smuggling in HL. 165 elfroot. -H_ **

\--

**_Visited FB. Met Avaar from Stonebear Hold. Friendly. Met Avaar from Jaws of Hakkon. Not friendly. HoA attempted to close a rift. Quickly tactically retreated. Promises to return. 0 elfroot. -H_ **

\--

**_HoA tried to return to HW. HoA said “Fuck this place”. No plan to return. -H_ **

\--

**_HoA decided to find all shards. Spent two months climbing cliffs, ruins and castles across Ferelden and Orlais. Found over 100. Still not sure what they are for. 287 elfroot. -H_ **

\--

**_HoA met with a Magister and a Templar in HL. Both were dealt with. GW BW was not a grey warden. Dealt with. HoA spending time tying up loose ends in war room and helping companions. Heading to SC in two weeks to meet w Qun. -H_ **

\--

That was the last message. The last one written by the now Tal-Vashoth. Asalaad left it on her desk, staring at it, a cold feeling settling behind her breastbone.

Everyone had heard of the disaster; the dreadnought’s destruction, the betrayal by Hiss… by The Iron Bull. The small angry viddathari had made a massive scene coming back from the mission and had been shipped back to Seheron by the Arishok. 

The messages coming her way were now only sent by the viddathari spies that had been planted in and near the Inquisition. They were nowhere near as helpful at discerning the inner workings of the organisation. 

They mentioned travel itineraries, quantities of iron and leather bought by the smiths.

Asalaad’s right hand went to the wrap she always wore on her left wrist. She could feel the hard, irregular bumps under the coarse fabric, the dragon scales that she never removed from her person.

The reports mentioned soldier deployment, the number of new nobles arriving at the mountain fortress every month.

She squeezed the wrap hard, the scales digging into her wrist.

They never mentioned… They never…

\--

Five months later, a tall refugee approached Skyhold. She said she was Tal-Vashoth, that her name was Kaltenzahn, that she was ex-Ben-Hassrath, and that she needed to speak with The Iron Bull.

Leliana looked at the woman in front of her. She was tall and thin, a certain leanness that a lot of refugees arrived with. They had placed her in an out of the way room, under guard. Whether or not she was truly Tal-Vashoth, it wasn’t every day that they were visited by a Qunari spy, ex or not. She was eating the simple meal they’d provided her, trying not to go too fast.

“Why do you need to speak with The Iron Bull?” Leliana asked calmly, her eyes betraying her tone of voice.

“You are the Spymistress?” the Tal-Vashoth woman asked.

The dagger was out before she could blink. It wasn’t pointed at her yet, but Kaltenzahn knew that in her diminished state, she’d have no chance against the smaller woman.

“Answer me.”

“I receive… I used to receive the agent Hissrad’s reports in Qunandar. I left Par Vollen five months ago.” She felt her voice catch, but forged ahead. “I have left the Qun.”

“Why?”

Kaltenzahn pulled a thin chain from under her shirt. Strung into the chain were five dragon scales of various sizes and colours. A bright orange one was in the center. “There were things happening in the world that no one there understood, things happening in my heart that I didn’t understand.” She took the glass of water and drank it dry. “I had always had questions. But his reports, these scales told me there were more answers out here than I would ever get if I stayed on that island.”

Leliana starred her down. Kaltenzahn said no more. She had answered all the questions.

Finally, the human woman stood up. “The Iron Bull is away with the Inquisitor at the moment. They are due to arrive in a few weeks. You understand that we will limit your movements in the keep until we can trust you?”

“That is acceptable. If I may have reading and writing material, I would appreciate it.”

Leliana nodded. “You don’t mind having to wait for his return?”

“I have waited over a year to ask him my questions. I can wait a while longer.”

With a final nod, Leliana left her. Kaltenzahn didn’t hear a lock, but she had glanced at the two people outside her door, and could faintly smell the poison on their knives. “Fair enough.” she said quietly to herself.

\--

Three weeks after her arrival, there was a knock on the door.

“Come in.” she said, nervous despite herself, looking at the large shadow under the door.

The Iron Bull came into the room, and she rose to meet him. She was nearly as tall as him, but nowhere near as wide.

“Kaltenzahn, eh? Nice necklace.” he said with a grin.

“I have you to thank for it, The Iron Bull.”

His smile, if possible, widened. “So I heard. I checked in with Red, she said you might appreciate this.” He flicked something at her off his thumb, and she caught it easily. It was a bright yellow scale, a bit more domed than the rest of her collection. She brought it up to her nose and inhaled deeply. It smelled of sweat and blood and victory. “Ataashi…” she hummed to herself.

“I know, right? Gamordan Stormrider; fucking gorgeous.” He grumbled appreciatively. “You settling in okay? Red said you had questions?”

“The Spymistress has been reasonably accommodating. I am well. If they do decide to trust me, they may put me to work in the library. I do enjoy organising spaces.”

“Asalaad? Of course you would. I’ll put in a word for you. Any questions I can answer right now?” he asked.

“Just the one for now.”

“Yeah?”

“Why the fuck did the Herald of Andraste need so much elfroot??” she demanded, her face cracking with confusion.

The Iron Bull barked out a loud laugh. “He just really likes it.”

Kaltenzahn took a deep breath and shook her head as The Iron Bull waved at her and left. She ran her thumb across the yellow scale and permitted herself a small smile. Maybe the library would be really messy; maybe, if she was lucky, it would need complete reorganisation. With colour coding, too.


End file.
